


Even Landlocked Lovers Yearn For the Sea-like Navy Men

by Evenseven



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Denial of Feelings, Double-Ficlet, Light Angst, M/M, No Beta, Prompt Fic, Random & Short, Stevie is kinda a jealousy guy, Unrequited Love, all the usual Gerlonso stuff, and god of denial, maybe it is not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenseven/pseuds/Evenseven
Summary: Sometimes Steven couldn’t help but think about how alike yet different they were, for almost everything they’d shared.





	Even Landlocked Lovers Yearn For the Sea-like Navy Men

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot by Death Cab For Cuties.  
Prompt: Commons and differences.  
I'm pretty sure most of the things in this fic is not true. Or am I?  
Quick written random ficlet. I apologize for my bad writing.

Sometimes Steven couldn’t help but think about how alike yet different they were, for almost everything they’d shared. It had truly been a wonder to him throughout the time, that how they became so intimate while drifting toward opposite directions.

He still remembered the first time they met in Melwood, that rarely burning sunlight leaking through the Spaniard’s hickory colour hair, bleached the top layer to a stunning golden shade. Xabi offered him a warm smile, the up-curve of his pink lips was somewhere between confident and shy, and reach out a hand in the mid-air: “Hi, I’m Xabi Alonso, you can just call me Xabi.” And some strange wave of anxiety hit the back of Steven’s head, he had not anticipated the new midfielder being so polite and friendly, with his _mighty English_ and a beautiful face. So he shook his hand like a rigid wood, blinking at his new midfield partner like he was the newcomer here, and rumbled the only thing he had prepared for this meeting: “_Hola._”

He had to admit that he was teamed with Carra when the Spaniard first arrived, thinking this man may not be what the team truly wanted, but his mind was totally changed during their first training session. The way Xabi passed the ball to him across half the field like it was aided with magic or a navigator, truly stunned him and made him think that, maybe they were alike in more than he had thought, maybe they could be a pair of great partner.

And they did.

They were so good together as midfield partners, all the newspaper called them various elaborate names, he tried not to look into their words too much, but he knew they were not wrong for this time.

Xabi soon became friend with everyone in the team, maybe a bit too soon if you ask Steven, but he knew right away there’s something special about this Spaniard that would make everything a bit different. He thought the man was shy and introvert, turned out he was more of an adventurous type than he imaged. The new midfielder was always curious about the ways of s_cousers_, not afraid of talking to English-speaking teammates, and tried his best to learn about the culture. Steven appreciated such effort of course, he was just not particularly fond of seeing Xabi hanging around with Finnan, Hyypiä, and Carra, instead of him. And what’s the reason behind that, he wasn’t very sure.

But then, as he was hesitating if he should be talking the captain’s responsibility and reaching out to the new teammate, Xabi came to him yet again with a subtle smile, cameral eyes flickering like the galaxy was hidden inside: “Stevie, tell me something about the city.”

Then, everything was a bit different after that, the chemistry floating in the air shifted subtly. Steven knew there was something the Spaniard didn’t say but all hidden within those glances he received during training, in the changing room, and inside the team bus after a winning match.

Which was precisely the reason why, after winning that dream-like title, something just clicked with the help of adrenaline when he looked to his right and there’s Xabi’s face, the hand clutched on his shoulder was burning with his own body temperature, and everything else was too loud— it just seemed like a perfect time for a kiss.

So he did. When Xabi turned his head and saw him offering his lips, the Spaniard didn’t disappoint him.

It was nothing, their lips barely touched for only a split second, thought he was well aware of all the huge camera lenses before them, he just didn’t care. They were the champion of Europa, standing on top of the continent after such a dramatic comeback, so what if they kissed? Besides, Steven was pretty sure he kissed about a hundred people that night.

He never thought of it too much, that was until later that night when he was back in the hotel room he shared with Xabi and wouldn’t let go of the trophy, Xabi laughed at him sitting on the edge of they other twin bed: “Oh come on, Stevie! You’ve kissed the big cup a thousand times already, let me have my turn!”

“What? You want to take the trophy’s place?” He teased him in an incredibly good mood because, to be fair, they were all in such an incredibly good mood, when he suddenly remembered something earlier on the pitch,“But ya’ve already got me’ kiss.”

It was meant to be a harmless joke between friends, of course Xabi wanted the cup not _him_, but suddenly the Spaniard was stiff and hesitated, biting down his lips, looking at him with a pair of innocent upcast eyes and _blushing_ a little: “I know, Stevie…But I just want to kiss you again.”

And that was how everything started, though he doubted sometimes it started way earlier than that. Steven didn’t know what came through him that night, but they ended up lying on the same hotel bed, and the astonishingly beloved silver trophy was tossed on the other empty bed.

Still it was nothing, they were never in a relationship of any sort, at least that’s what Steven thought. It’s just natural for them to get closer to each other all the time, on and off the pitch, within or without football. And he was pretty convinced that Xabi was screwing around inside his team, though he never really asked or verified, being afraid of what he would find out.

Steven had never saw himself as a jealous type, but something just went wrong about his natural emotions, when it came to matters involved a certain Spaniard. Whenever there’s someone else taking his seat beside Xabi, he just couldn’t help but putting on a “grumpy face, like somebody’s stealing ya wife”, quoting Carra with his intrigue smile.

It wasn’t like that at all, it was different.

He wanted to explain and justify for himself, but all the words just choked on his throat when he saw Garcia having an arm around Xabi’s waist, chatting and laughing in a language he couldn’t understand at all.

But he kept his mouth shut in the end, because he knew it was not even a single slice of his business. They were nothing, and Xabi could do whatever he wanted with whoever he liked. He ground his teeth and kept silence, even when the certain Spaniard shot back a few deep glances at him, he continued to talk with Carra like one was them was really giving a shit about the weather.

So things remained unchanged between them, they had amazing chemistry on the pitch, and were friends of benefits off the pitch, nothing more than that. It all seemed to be weird to break their routine relation after a while, and Xabi seemed to finally stop pissing him off as well.

Apart from those secret moment they shared between bedsheet, Steven found out they were more alike, yet different than he would’d thought.

They all loved Liverpool, but Xabi loved it because it was a beautiful city and its welcoming people, Steven loved it because it was his home.

They all liked The Beatles, but Xabi liked them because they had innovated and charming music, Steven liked them because they were four normal fellows from working families in Liverpool, making history with the pride of scousers, like he would’d imaged himself to be.

They all liked sunny days, but Xabi liked it because it was warm and suitable for football, Steven liked it because he knew how unbearable the raining season was in Northern England.

They all liked rainy clouds, but Xabi liked it because it reminded him of_ his _hometown, in Spain, Steven liked it because it reminded of his hometown, right here in this city.

“Have you ever thought of collecting anything, Stevie? Like, wrist watches?” Xabi told him one time, holding the Franck Muller he received after Istanbul, finger caressing the number 14 on the back, looking more reflected than ever. “Eh, no, not really, why?” Steven was not that interested in delicate crafts in general, but Xabi seemed to always keep an eye on those stuff. “Just thinking maybe I can have it as a hobby…I look good in those, don’t you think?” Xabi blinked at him, wearing the watch back on like he was already obsessed with the little thing. “‘Couse you look good in those…”He had to answer, but adding a line in the back of his head leaving unsaid: “You look good in anything, even nothing.”

They were totally different after all, Steven thought about it sometimes, when he was all alone in his empty house, when there’s an international break and Xabi had fucked off back to Spain with those cheeky handsome faces and god knows what they could had…

It was nothing, he could handle a bit of loneliness like a fucking adult, and it’s all natural for them to be like this, he just had to remind himself from time to time.

He could take it, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s natural, for such different people to part ways, right? But no, Steven couldn’t convince himself to believe, it was the time Xabi had to leave Liverpool, leave the club, leave _him_.

He remembered fists pounding on Xabi’s apartment door in rage, asking him with a red face the reason he wanted to leave.

“Rafa doesn’t want me anymore, I have tried, but it didn’t work out,” Xabi answered him with such calm and composed expression like there was never a thing between them, and it’s just all natural for him to leave, “Besides, _you _don’t even want me anymore.”

Bullshit, that’s all bullshit! He couldn’t even remember the last time he lost his shit like this, but he did throw the Spaniard to the wall and kiss him so rough that it hurt both of them, and Xabi had rammed his fist on his shoulder and pushed him away, rejected him like they were through a long time ago.

“Fuck off, Gerrard,” Xabi gave him his back and a stone-cold tone, “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got better things to do.”

He knew he was responsible for that incident afterwards, so he apologized to the Spaniard when they both calmed down a bit and the tension in the changing room eased a bit. “Don’t worry about it,” Xabi was being all polite and distant again like it was four years ago, “I’m sorry, too.”

It wasn’t the kind of answer he was looking for, but Xabi stayed at the end of that summer. They acted like they were still the same, only they were not.

Steven was never the same after that summer.

He had tried harder than ever, finally decided what he wanted and _who_ he wanted, but all his effort seemed only a bit too late. Xabi was devoting all of himself to the club, but Steven knew it was only his farewell gift.

“Do you really, really have to go?” One raining day after an away match they had lost, Steven found Xabi standing alone by the hotel balcony window, looking into the raining night like he was appreciating the scene for the very last time.

“Stevie…You knew the answer already.” Xabi signed, his tone was the softest Steven had heard in a long time, “I’m a voyager, you are the land-locked man…we are indeed different after all. Liverpool is your home, and it’s about time my journey here comes to an end.”

Steven didn’t knew what it was that night, but his eyes burning so hard that he almost crashed. Though he knew Xabi would offered him a warm embrace, it was not the kind of affection he wanted, no, not the farewell kiss.

He knew Xabi was right about that, yet he had wished to believe they were opposite sides of the_ same_ coin. He loved this man, and it only took five years for him to admit this solid fact. It was not the parted ways that troubled his mind, but condolence of the things they could had been.

**Author's Note:**

> Xabi and his watches from his interview in Mr.Porter, 2017.
> 
> Dedicated this fic to my dear Toby, you are one of the best things ever happened to me. <3


End file.
